


To Vanish By Night Into Nothingness (Falling Madly In Love With Life At Daybreak)

by DeyaniraSan



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Adventure, Alchemist!Kurapika, Alchemy, Alluka is dissing Killua's fashions sense but there is no hope, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fantasy AU, Ghosts, Gon is a cinnamon, Healer!Leorio - Freeform, High Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Killua and Alluka have the most precious relationship ever, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Magical Creatures, Or Is he?, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 23:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11861472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeyaniraSan/pseuds/DeyaniraSan
Summary: Cruelty. Blood magic. Murder. People with longevity close to immortality, enough to surpass the life of a normal human being, holders of secret knowledge they used to confuse the minds of the weaker. Magic users were shunned and bashed for what they could see and what they could do, erased from the light and from the shadows, banned from existence itself.Magic had always been bestowed upon the lands. Yet, for centuries past magic users have been feared and shunned for their abilities, fear and superstition making their talents seem more like a curse than a blessing.Killua had never felt anything but contempt for his abilities that had brought him only sorrow and had taken everything he loved away from him. Now, he is a runaway with his sister from his family, who have decided they cannot let his blooming powers get out of control, turning him into a dangerous menace for the world.Gon is a mysterious mage and adventure that seems to have fallen in love with life itself. After an accidental encounter with Killua, he decides the other confused boy needs all the help in getting his power under control.





	To Vanish By Night Into Nothingness (Falling Madly In Love With Life At Daybreak)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Niahara_Erskine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niahara_Erskine/gifts), [tasmaniandevil4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tasmaniandevil4/gifts).



> Hello! This is my first fic for the HxH fandom so nice to meet you all! This story is a High Fantasy AU setting, so I want to say it here first that to some extent the events and characters will reflect canon. There will also be small differences and original places and names, as well as small OCs as I write this. Personally, this was supposed to be a one-shot that got completely out of control, so I have no idea how long this will be. Thank for reading and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Shout out for my amazing beta and friend @Niahara_Erskine. As usual these days, this whole story is on her, and me writing and publishing this can be blamed on her altogether I hope you are happy with my pestering as you had enabled this. 
> 
> Also a bigger shot out for my other friend @tasmaniandevil4, who was so kind to introduce me to the HxH fandom. By that I mean, f-you, seriously you have ruined my life and you made me happy. This story is also for you, since without your insistence to watch the show this would have never existed. You are amazing.
> 
> I don't know when the next update will be, so I guess it depends on my free time and how long it will take for Niahara to find me as I go and hide after posting this. Hope you enjoyed!

The darkness of the forest was almost impenetrable under the moonless night, the ancient trees mourning their burden with old rickety sounds and ringing cracks of ominous distress. The feeble branches formed an impenetrable skeletal canopy through which one could not even dare to hope to catch sight of the feeble light shining from the few exhausted stars adorning the night sky.

At ground level, the darkness reigned absolute, coiling indecipherably around the massive trunks and slithering between rustling dead grass untouched by rain through the years, barely the vaguest contours visible to the keenest eyes of most living things.

Killua crouched between two ancient roots, the bark willfully rising from the ground in defiance wrapping and curling in a mangled representation – if one were to use their imagination to think of it as such – of human fingers. Stories had spread throughout centuries about the Eftersam Forest, the truth lost between fearful whispers. Some talked about the gods cursing the land, casting it in darkness and despair not one being to be left to dwell upon those grounds ever again. Myths talked about giants, walking trees ruling the earth long before humankind ever came into existence… and about their fall, their existence so permanent that they had turned unmovable forever to reside upon these fields, as they changed into real wood.

But the vilest whispers of them all talked about a _magical_ _curse_ , about earth imbedded with magic until not even rain would touch it anymore, unwilling to grace the despicable lives that were to set foot on such accursed realms.

It was precisely because of such whispers that Killua had wandered beneath the darkest canopies he had ever seen, the silvery leaves of the forest so thick and old that they wouldn’t let the warmth of the sun to permeate enough to keep at bay the chill clinging to his bones, cutting like blades with merciless indifference until he gave up any hope of regaining feeling in his fingers. At night, the winds howled dully, an inhuman cry sweeping between tree trunks, making it almost impossible for anyone to walk ahead.

It was a cold, dark and miserable place, unfit for life or travels, no one alive or dead willing to pass through such parts. As a runaway from his family, it was the perfect route for Killua to take until his trail would go cold and become untraceable for anyone wishing to find him, not even his brother daring to come into the Cursed Forest.

Killua Zoldyck was a son belonging to one of the most famous and deadly assassin family, a legacy of blood and shadows passed down through a prestigious lineage of power and talent. Many lesser and higher men would tremble in fear just hearing his name, heads bowing in fearful recognition.

Killua Zoldyck was also a magic user. And that alone made him one of the lowest forms of existence, a being that would inspire undiluted horror and disgust in the hearts of anyone else.

As part of his upbringing, his family had made sure to build and train him to become the perfect assassin, undeterred by pain, poison or injuries. His whole life had been marked by the most gruesome acts, forbidden and despicable knowledge as familiar as the pattern of his own breaths. He had been taught how to kill before he had been told how to live; he had felt the coarse, warm touch of blood before he had experienced the softness of a hug, and it had been wrong – and so hard, phantom pains still lingering at the borders of his consciousness, revenants haunting his mind and memory never to fully go away – but they had also made him strong as the heir his family had wished for.

Yet, not even a family of assassins could accept something as disgusting and immoral as a magic user among in their midst, such a dangerous being worthy of only one fate. They had clearly stated their opinion on the matter many years ago as they had decided the fate of his precious sister. The only reason he had been left alive, had been perhaps wistful thinking on their part that he would be different - he simply couldn’t imagine his mother keening over with affection and pledging for his life. But they had been wrong. So very wrong.

And now Killua Zoldyck was running away for his life, a renegade of existence itself and established bane to the world by simply _living_.

Another gush of wind blew its force momentarily pressing him further into the rough bark of the tree behind him. His hands uselessly hugged his knees, every part of his body coiling pitifully on itself in a poor defence against the horrible weather. Even so, he only needed to last till morning, until the sun peaked high enough from the horizon at dawn, enough for the darkest shadows to recede in unearthly penumbras of haunting light enough for him to see. Then he could move further, deeper into the forest, coming closer to getting out of it…

“There is no one around.”

The voice was sudden and surprising, startling Killua enough to jolt him to a standing. Mentally, he berated himself for both his reaction and the moment of weakness in which he succumbed to his thoughts enough to lose awareness of his surroundings like this. It was so stupid, so stupid, one single mistake like this in any other situation and he wouldn’t even have time to look up before he was dead…

“Onii-chan? Are you okay?” Alluka asked worriedly at his side, just as Killua turned towards her, his mouth trying to muster a quivering smile of reassurance and failing.

“Yes, yes, I am so sorry. Onii-chan is a bit distracted, I shouldn’t have been so careless towards my surroundings enough for you to surprise me coming back, but I did and it was a pretty big mistake, and I am sorry it’s just this forest, it is so dark, Alluka, and I was surprised…”

He realised he was babbling when Alluka touched his arm squeezing slightly in reassurance. Killua sighed, and with a deep breath he tried to calm down his racing heart, concentrating his attention towards his other senses, just enough to barely make out Alluka’s figure in front of him in the absolute darkness. Killua couldn’t see her, her face undisguisable for his eyes. His other senses weren’t much help either; Alluka barely made any sounds anymore as she moved, and even her feeble touch was barely there, closer to a soft caress compared to the hard grip she probably aimed for.

“It is okay, Onii-chan. I am sorry,” she said softly when Killua’s hasty words died out only the silence of the forest reigning between the two of them.

At her words, Killua barked out a mirthless laugh. “Okay? Alluka, how can you… There is nothing okay about this whole situation,” he answered incredulously, his wavering voice betraying all the things his words could not encompass. Worry. Fear. Apprehension. Pain. _Grief._

Alluka didn’t answer, and the forest seemed to ring in the silence, the howling wind a sweet reprieve covering the blood thundering in Killua’s ears. With a soft exhale, he blindly reached out his hand missing Alluka’s body a few times, still unaccustomed with her new form.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Killua said softly, his fingers squeezing her shoulder digging slightly into her body, passing through her arm almost all the way through in a way that he had never been able to before.

“Neither do you, Onii-chan. This whole situation… It is okay to feel afraid,” Alluka assured him kindly, and her voice was the warmest presence in the whole forest, her words affectionate and sympathising, gentle kindness shaking Killua to his very core with the small undeserved reassurance. Beneath his fingers, Killua felt her silhouette shudder temporarily reflecting the earnestness in her voice, and his heart squeezed in his chest like a gaping wound, an abyss of hurt that seemed to knock his breath away with its stinging intensity, his airways constricting with the leaden taste of guilt.

“Nothing to apologise for?” he whispered, and there was no masking the unseen tears in his eyes, or his barely choked voice. “Alluka, you are _dead,_ ” he gasped out blindly reaching to hug the immaterial and hovering form of what had been his sister.

“Hmm, perhaps. But I still get to be with Onii-chan,” Alluka responded unfazed, her whole being shuddering with the honesty of her emotions between Killua’s arms, his fingers squeezing air helpless for a second as she turned completely incorporeal before returning to her ghost form Killua could touch, reminding him of falling leaves and turning sand, a permanent memento of her fallibility and his foolishness. “It does not really matter that much. I am still here after all. And I am always with Onii-chan! I only care for Onii-chan not to die right now,” she confessed meekly, and Killua couldn’t help the repressed sob from escaping his lips at hearing how accepting and casual Alluka was about her own demise, her words heartfelt.

“But I care about yours,” he whispered, and it was not a new admission or an unfamiliar confession, words pointlessly repeated so many times before, unable to erase the truth of their reality. It was useless, and Killua knew so, and mentally he cursed himself for being so pathetic and uncertain, for losing his calm at such a critical time, for being an emotional fool, but neither logic nor instinct could stop the barrage of emotional pain, feelings so strong that they seemed impossible to fit in his small body as they tore away at his sanity with cutting jagged ages.

Only for now, and just for now, for once in his life alone with only the ghost of his sister at his side, Killua allowed himself to wallow in the ocean of hurt he normally kept at bay, disappointedly crying away his sorrow as Alluka softly patted his back in comforting circles. Killua did not apologise, didn’t let his voice scream out the words stinging at the tip of tongue to echo wistfully unheard through the ancient forest; yet, they still resounded clear to both siblings, unsaid understanding unmentioned between them.

It was unfair for Killua. It had been unfair for Alluka. The world was unfair, and Killua would do anything to change a sin neither choose to be a part off. But that was not in his power, helplessly bowing to cruel fate.

The wind continued to fight against the battered trees of the forest with a mournful sound.

* * *

Magic had always been bestowed upon the lands. It was said at some point the society entwined the occult in harmony with the mundane life, the magic users able to use their powers freely like the gift they were. That had not been the case for a long time, ages of the forgotten past erasing such a reality to the mere status of a fantasy for people to scoff at.

No one knew anymore what magic users were capable off. People feared them and despised them, and as they have been slowly hunted down nothing but a few of their kind remained to cast their wretched spells around the world. People cowered in front of their power and unknown abilities. As such, they were erased from the past and from the present until only in the darkness corners of the underworld rumours of cruelty and bloodshed remained still, in the light of the day most people simply not willing to accept talks about such transgression.

Cruelty. Blood magic. Murder. People with longevity close to immortality, enough to surpass the life of a normal human being, holders of secret knowledge they used to confuse the minds of the weaker. Magic users were shunned and bashed for what they could see and what they could do, erased from the light and from the shadows, banned from existence itself.

Killua had been four when he first saw the amalgamations, creatures of a broken past and frozen present being made visible for him to see in their majestic and grotesque horror.

At first he barely noticed the small creatures, nothing more but interesting apparitions he assumed were part of the world, odd animals in shapes and forms he had never been taught before. One-eyed beasts resembling ashy moles made out of fuzzing thread; sightless birds with human fangs and feathers that stretched into sharp knives; cuter, smaller companions of the forest, mushroom coming alive, peering curiously with tumultuous eyes from beneath their hats with welcoming shyness. Killua took them all in, his eyes seeing them, slowly starting to recognize them in the forest surrounding his house, and at times inside their house. He never talked about them, considering them unimportant – and Killua was not a necessarily outspoken child, most times finding a tranquil peace in solitude with no expecting eyes from his family to follow his movements – simply observed them with cold but intrigued eyes, knowing he was watched in return.

He didn’t pay them much attention, apathy clogging through his veins and seeping bones, his mind befuddled with muddy thoughts, fragments of interests barely sparking up a will in his soul most days. Killua didn’t need to worry about the creatures, not when at times he worried about his survival, the training of his family the only thing he could trouble his mind with most times, anxious about the next challenge, of stepping out of line or simply not being enough for them as to be considered _weak_.

Then the horrible creatures appeared.

In the beginning, he couldn’t help his terrified screams at seeing them; half decomposing humans, with broken insides falling apart as they moved, gaping black eyes staring at him. Others looked normal, or like hybrids between human and animals, with threatening glares and grabby hands, reaching out to touch – to hurt – the young boy that could see them.

His parents were displeased. His mother cried. His father made him swear to ignore them, his voice stony and blue eyes disappointed. His grandfather advised him to pretend they were not there. Illumi took it as his personal mission to make Killua understand to never mention those things and to teach him how ignore them.

His questions were left unanswered. Magic they whispered with dissatisfaction, revulsion coating their words, as arguments fell harder than any other wounds inflicted on his body, natural fear and revulsion at odds with gleaming opportunity. Killua was their special little heir, and killing him was inadmissible, even if he was a tainted being. So they hoped and conducted a new training; Killua was never to dwell into his powers, to try and coat his hands with the abilities that were naturally his.

And the creatures? Those didn't exist, were to be ignored, and for each frightened gasp and shuddering chill at the nearness of a floating yet invisible nightmare Killua was severely punished, the physical pain a blur on his mind to cast his thoughts away from what wasn't supposed to exist.

A crack of a whip for a flinch; of course there was no drowned man on the ceiling, no water dripping down a snivelled neck, a mouth gaping open in stricken horror from the back of the creature's head.

A cut of a knife for a confused cry and fearful word; there were no monsters in the forest, no living creatures he should take into account besides his targets when hunting them down. There was no one to speak into the dark, and Killua easily learned how to separate what he was supposed to ignore from what was real.

A scalding strike for a slip of attention; there was nothing out there for him to watch out for, nothing for him to worry about when he was on a mission and as he conducted his training. And Killua learned how not to let his eyes stray on the playful twirl of forest spirit in the form lively leaf floating through the sky, least should he let his eyes focus on the decaying corpse of a mangled creature howling next to his ear in agonising pain with rapturing pleasure at the goose bumps rising on his skin as Illumi taught him lessons about all the things he ever needed to know.

There wasn't anything there, nothing existed out of the ordinary, and as long as Killua's only sin was the ability to see something no one else even dared to imagine to exist, he was allowed to live, allowed to bloom into what his destiny decided for him.

But he _knew,_ and in the dark of the night, when his chest was heaving beneath his broken ribs, foam and bile coating his throat and lips from a hard lesson in poisons and torture, he could feel the puffy caress of the dusty black creatures that resided in the wooden walls that only dared to come out at night. When he was tied up on the ceiling, shackles digging in his tiny bones, shoulders feeling ready to pop out in blinding agony at the tinniest move as he learnt to endure pain, he could feel the phantom caress of a wicked amalgamation, their chuckle sending chills of horror into the very core of his soul in icy shaky terror as bony fingers dug and drag coldly into his skin over rivulets of flowing blood, unseen by any other living being.

Killua knew that the creatures were real, but he learned to pretend, he learned to hide what he felt when he saw them, never asking about their nature or questioning their existence. So at night, when giant spiders crawled over the windows hiding the moon from his sight, he just kept on repeating a mantra in his head of not real, not real, _not real_ , both a lie for survival and a prayer. And in the end he didn't react anymore, instinct borne out of necessity and terror overriding his natural reactions, until he forgot he should not be seeing these things, pushing their existence out of his mind, since mentioning his abnormality was like digging his own grave.

Killua was created to become a genius, the ultimate assassin, but Killua was never meant to be a dangerous individual, whose mere breaths denoted an ominous sign of destruction, a ticking bomb of energy about to go off.

And it was fine. He didn't need something as dangerous as _magic_. He didn't need to accept or acknowledge that part of him that only brought him more suffering than anything else in his life.

It was all _fine._ Until Alluka.

Until Alluka was proved to be able to see the amalgamations too.

Until Alluka demonstrated she could innately control them, and bend their essence to her will.

And for that Alluka paid with her life.

* * *

 

The village twinkled peacefully in contented oblivion under the warm summer sky, green canopies resting their gentle shade over the cosy houses. It was an innocent, inconspicuous place at the outskirts of the Cursed Forest, an unknown and unimportant settlement at the borders of the Padokea region.

Killua didn't let his eyes stray or body relax for one minute even as he strutted confidently through the village’s streets, stopping only to buy some local bland clothes, leaving his previously recognisable outfit to rot in flames as he set it on fire. From here thereon, he could only work his hardest to hide in plain sight; not even his family could trace his exact steps right now. Not only that, he had to make sure no one would ever believe he was anything more than an ordinary traveller.

Alluka floated cheerfully at his side, as she gushed here and there over the different merchant stalls and shops. Killua had to bite his tongue a few times from answering her or chuckling at her comments, as they had already established they would not verbally communicate in towns not to give anything away. Still, it was hard, and Killua ached to answer his sister as she floated and darted around between and _through_ people on the busy streets, her eyes alight with delight at the beautiful things she had been robbed of experiencing in the few years she had been alive.

The village was beautiful, Killua had to admit, picturesque houses made out red bricks, the fanciest vendors showing their wealth by engraving their walls with basilisks, cobbled streets looping around in a labyrinth. The air was alight with happiness, and Killua knew the village was just as innocent as it looked, the only amalgamations present being playful scaled insects that flew with their coloured wings beneath the sun as their bodies coiled and uncoiled merrily, as well as a few trickster creatures that were shaped oddly like wild foxes with multiple limbs and tails, their three eyes peering curiously at Killua as he passed through the streets.

He never reacted to their presence, his eyes barely straying in passing around to make sure Alluka safely followed him through the crowd before immediately straying away. Even so, he was aware that the things knew of his powers, somehow sensing him and singling him out from the crowd, in the same way his skin tingled and itched at their proximity. It was annoying, but years of training made him unable to react even as a fox-amalgamation ran straight through him, burning his skin with a tender immaterial warmth.

As he passed through the middle of the village, the market place a sunny plaza in which people joyfully talked next to a majestic water fountain sprinkling water, Killua only pulled the hood further over his long white tresses hoping no one would notice his odd colouring. Carefully, making sure to sign Alluka to follow him from beneath the sleeve of his long light blue robes, Killua walked through the better parts of the village until he reached the dirtier slums, his feet stopping in front of a tavern that also offered cheap housing.

"Onii-san, are you sure?" Alluka whispered at his side, her pink dress her ghost form seemed to wear swaying in the wind, as her hand slithered softly in his. No one could hear or see her, so her careful gesture and words were meaningless, but it didn't matter for Killua, as he softly squeezed back.

In any other situation he would've answered, or given her a reassuring smile; as it was he sternly nodded, a barely perceptive move between the folds of his darker hood, before confidently pushing open the door of the establishment, wood scratching from usage, as it closed behind him.

The tavern was dark, dust rolling lazily in the air visible in the glowing cracks through which the sun shone through, agedness and misuse leaving their marks on the place. As Killua walked closer to what passed as the reception - an old, gritty table, shakenly bearing its own weight - a tall, strongly-build man walked in the main parlour, his eyes settling coldly on Killua.

"And wadya want, boya," he asked as he lazily bit from the apple he carefully held in his massive hand. Killua impassively watched the display of power, the man’s palm big enough to crush his skull in one go. He didn't say anything before dropping a small black pouch on the counter from between the folds of his travelling cloak so fast the owner could not see the paleness of his skin before his hand was already hidden underneath a long sleeve, as his eyes seemed to glow in an iridescent blue with seriousness from behind the shadow of his cowl. Kindly he smiled, as the other man frowned his scared face - a big wound having left him without one eye and a whitish scar over half of his right side - frowned at him.

"One room. Close to the back door. That should be enough for the night," he answered, not sparring casualties to a man that was obviously accustomed to the darker ways of the underground.

The man's face twitched in impatience just as he longingly gazed at the pouch, which obviously held a few gold coins. His arms flexed in irritation, the white battle scars standing out starkly against his tanned skin. Killua mentally rolled his eyes at his apprehension.

"I am not here to cause trouble, merely passing by," he added, and he hoped the slight impatience in his voice coating his words with distaste over the other's indecision wasn't as obvious for the owner as it was for him.

"Fine, I'd letya stay the night. No trouble," he directed over his shoulder as he lazily crossed the room, to dig through a wooden drawer hanging on the wall obviously nearing the end of its service for a black rusty key dangling from a dirty, patched cloth.

"No trouble," Killua promised as he took the item, already turning around in a flurry of billowing blue, preparing to walk across the corridor towards his room.

"Dinner isya at seven," the owner yelled after him and Killua didn't deign the call with a response.

The door to his room was in the same predicament as the whole tavern, and Killua scoffed at having to use a key on a door that was barely holding close as it was. One kick from his ghost sister and the thing would swing open; there was no way the thing would hold any living creature at bay. As he entered the room, instinctually he let the door open behind him Alluka closing it behind her as she followed him. She didn't really need to use doors anymore, but Killua was hell-bent in making his sister feel as alive as possible.

"Onii-chan, you were so rude back there," were the first words Alluka directed towards him, making Killua both sigh and pinch the bridge of his noise in mock annoyance.

"Alluka," he groaned out, as his fingers went up to unfasten his cape, at the same time pulling his hood down, "the guy is obviously a reformed hitman from the underground."

"But you were mean!" Alluka insisted, ghost jumping over the bed, which resulted in the comic image of her floating above the lumpy mattress. Killua snorted in reply, as he draped the cloak over the only chair in the room that was clearly not meant to be used by anyone alive or weighting more than a few kilograms.

"The guy was ridiculous. He was trying to act tough when I have seen dogs more threatening," he sarcastically responded, as he faced his sister with his hands on his hips defensively.

"Onii-chan, Mike was a _werewolf._ I honestly doubt there are few creatures scarier than him on this whole continent," Alluka pointed out cheekily as she rolled over in the air as if she was standing on an actual bed, her blue eyes facing Killua upside down.

Killua sighed epically, dramatically waving his hands around to express his frustration as he turned around to face the mirror on the wall behind him, if the broken piece of glass that was barely visible from between black spots could be called as such. Carefully, he took in his features.

At nineteen years old, Killua's blue eyes seemed to hold the weight of an ancient knowledge, cobwebs of sorrow and pain mingled with cruelty giving them a cutting edge of dangerousness. Softly, Killua touched the tips of his white hair, noting it had gotten too long, as he had travelled through the Cursed Forest. What had previously been reaching just slightly behind his neck, now flung in tufts between his shoulder blades, his bangs annoyingly irritating his eyes. His hands played absent-mindedly with the braided strand hanging at the front of his hair on his right side, a small smiling skull hairclip keeping it in place. A matching crying skull hung at the end of his earring in the opposite ear, from which a white feather interlocked with a black strand flicked with each moved of his head.

"This won't do!" he exclaimed mournfully, his voice tilting in a whine, as he hung his head lower, hands bracing on the table in front of the mirror.

"What won't do?" Alluka asked floating next to him curiously. Killua watched her form dance through the mirror until he could feel the cold tremor over his skin that signalled the presence of an amalgamation next to him.

"My hair, Alluka. My freaking hair," he gritted out through his teeth as his eyes disdainfully glowered at own reflection in the mirror. "It's too recognisable!" he pouted petulantly cursing his unique features.

Alluka only hummed thoughtfully. "Really? Because I think your biggest worry should be your horrendous dressing style," she shot out, her blue eyes scanning Killua up and down, a small smile quirking her lips. When Killua only yelped in offence, his hand shooting out to push her away in mock betrayal, she only laughed, immediately becoming immaterial and hovering towards the other corner of their mouldy room.

"Alluka! What's that supposed to mean?!" Killua almost yelled in upset.

"It means your style is awfully tacky, even when you go for casual, Onii-chan," Alluka giggled, her delicate hands coming to hide her smile, as if that could erase the obvious amusement dancing in her eyes. Killua only looked downwards at his clothes. His boots, even though they were made out of knee high black leather, were already worn as he had chosen them for their sturdiness. His white close fitted trousers were new, as he had just bought them, leather bands holding two daggers strapped to his thighs. His favourite thing about his outfit though was his shirt, a high-collared jerkin which combined dark mesh and purple painted leather strapped over his chest and sides, leaving him enough mobility to fight if needed, two armbands containing hidden utensils strapped over his arms.

"What do you mean?!" Killua asked incredulous. "I look perfectly fine!" and if asked, he would forever deny that he stomped his foot in annoyance.

Alluka only giggled before coming closer and patting his shoulder shaking his head pitifully. "It's okay, Onii-chan. One day you will come to see the light."

Killua spluttered indignantly before pointing his finger at Alluka. "At least I am not forever bound to wear a combination of pink and green!"

"They're _pastels,_ " Alluka enunciated, giving a twirl through the air to showcase the dress her ghost form seemed to be stuck in. If Killua were to be honest, he would've said the airy pink dress what beautiful, a green and golden bodice flowing out in a long loose skirt, gold woven straps holding it over Alluka's shoulders as the sleeves flowed out freely. It baffled Killua that she was also wearing a matching cape, which she used to hide her flowing black hair, even as she was not touched by rain or cold, unable to feel them anymore,

"Whatever," he sighed, plopping down on the bed, knowing that when Alluka began to tease him, there was no escaping it. "Is Nanika okay?" he asked in the end, as his elbows rested on his knees bending his body forward, tiredness burdening his limbs and worry clouding his minds. Even as his sister tried her hardest to make him smile and forget their situation, he could not let the casual moments last, doubts and concerns endlessly plaguing his thoughts.

"She...  is here. Do you want me to ask her to come out?" Alluka hesitated in asking. Killua only smiled weakly her way.

"Only if you feel like it," Killua encouraged, but his smile was feeble, and the words were veiled by apprehension.

Alluka only sighed, before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes concentrating. Killua could not explain it, but he was able to feel the sudden change in the atmosphere, air crackling with electricity and energy, a gush of coldness seeping over his skin raising goose bumps as Alluka's form became firmer, her edges clearer more material than her usual self, slowly descending to the floor as her feet touched the ground with a small thud. When she opened her eyes, a dark void full of candour greets him, as her mouth stretched in a charcoal smile of nothingness, her feet wobbling as she crossed the two steps separating them.

"Hello, Nanika," Killua greeted softly, as he felt her fingers slide between his firmly, not the usual ghostly touch of an amalgamation, but soft flesh, colder than his but still very much alive.

"Ki-llua," Nanika gasped out as she settled in his open arms, small hands coming around his neck in a soft touch as she melted in the feeling of being loved. "Killua!"

"It is okay, Nanika. I am here. I will always be here," he promised and Nanika nodded in the crevice of his neck, her soft hair tickling his cheek. Killua sighed, as his fingers dragged softly through the mane of her hair, memories of years past springing in his mind when things had been so different, and their hugs warmer.

"Are you being nice to Alluka?" he asked softly, a small tease since he already knew the answer, and Nanika shook her head excitedly. Long ago, Nanika had been able to express herself freely, her words stuttered but still there. Most days now, she was barely able to form short phrases, her presence in the material world so draining it required all her energy to form.

They had been thirteen when they were killed, their shared body never having aged in the years that had passed since then. Killua had never been left in the company of his younger siblings much, the attention of their parents leaning towards the future, pushing Killua to spend time with his older brothers as to learn as much as he could from them. He had been three years older than his sisters, and he hadn't had the time to properly learn who they were until he was ten, and his parents had finally allowed him to spend time with 'his brother'.

Killua had felt his world crack and spin with nausea and surprise, when in the afternoon he first encountered Alluka he realised that she was able to see everything too. That evening had been forever ingrained in his mind, the hot summer sunset unable to warm the icy terror in his soul as he realised that there was someone who understood him, could relate to everything that had happened to him, and how that condemned Alluka to a worse fate than death itself.

He had tried to protect Alluka. He had kept her secret, teaching her not to mention her friends or companions to anyone but him. He had watched in horrified awe, as she boldly touched the amalgamations, not a single bit of fear as she rocked forest creatures between her hands, and let dusty black things play through her fingers. Killua could never understand Alluka, but until then he hadn't realised he was able to feel such a deep complete feeling of love for another being, desire to cheerish and protect mingling with repesct.

Nanika had been another surprise altogether.

They didn't officially meet until a year and a half later, a surprise encounter that had let him shaking in fear with ideas of possessions and evil beings taking over his sister. But it wasn't hard to realise Nanika had always been there, shyly hiding behind Alluka, not knowing if Killua would ever accept her. Killua had learnt from Alluka how to love, how to be gentle and how to dwell into that side of himself he had forever locked away with promises of pain and destructions. And in return for accepting his own self he had received not one, but two amazing sisters.

He had also realised, that even if he wasn't able to tap into the core of raw magic, his talents hidden away by unconscious volition or by unknown reasons, Alluka was exhuding magic, amalgamations shying away from her bright light, sparkles dancing at her fingers, as nature itself bowed to her will. Then there was Nanika, soft-spoken Nanika, which Killua had deduced long ago that she was in between a human of itself and an amalgamations, a raw and alive representations of Alluka's power with its own will she could never wish to harness or tame. Nanika, which was a living breathing human, but also a spirit at the same time, in front of which the reality itself bowed down to.

It was seeing Nanika create gold from nothingness, kill with merely a petulant touch, destroy with a thought and revive with a caress that Killua had felt the fear the others must've always felt around him. Amalgamations bowed to Nanika and listened to Alluka, creatures respecting someone of their own kind while also acknowledging their superior powers, and Killua was afraid as much as he was fascinated and enchanted, amazed and wistful, recognising the usage of a power that was also his own.

But Illumi had found out. And their mother had found out. And their father locked Alluka away, fearfully and with contempt using her powers for the benefit of the family.

And in the end Killua could not stop any of them from succumbing to their darkest worries, unable to see the beauty of Alluka’s power, the rawness of her strength, the life behind her energy. And so, Alluka had been killed, beheaded as Killua screamed his throat in naked agony, fingers clawing at his skin in horror, eyes burning as his throat choked on leaden breaths of sorrow.

Yet, not even death could keep her sisters bound in its dark embrace, _and she had come back_. Killua was eighteen when he realised that the amalgamations hunting his waking hours were spirits, Alluka returning to him as a timid ghost. And as Alluka had been the blooming life of the two, in death Nanika remained alive for both of them, her powers feeding from the living energy of the world, keeping both of them anchored there still.

"I love you, Nanika," Killua whispered in between her dark locks, memories and regrets intermingling with the present. "I am so sorry," he said, and he couldn't really explain whether he meant it as regret for their past and their current situation, or whether he was sorry for the strain such an existence put on his sisters.

"I love you, Killua," Nanika whispered, and Killua shuddered as he felt Nanika's form diminish, as her powers were receding.

"Be a good girl and don't exhaust yourself, kay?" he added, leaning back to put some space in between them, blue eyes swirling in an ocean of gentle love and anguish meeting soft blackness, as he cupped her soft cheeks.

"'Kay," Nanika returned back with a smile, her hands clasping over Killua's for one last gentle touch, before Killua felt the suction of her power imploding under the strain, material turning immaterial under his own fingers. His hands were still touching Alluka's cheeks as he gazed lovingly at her, his arms straining upwards a bit as she returned to her floating state, sapphire eyes settling on sky blue ones. But the touch wasn't the same, and Killua knew Alluka felt it too, as she shuddered adapting to her ghost form, her eyes barely giving away her own heartbreak and grief.

Even so, she never complained, even now softly smiling at Killua with all the love she could not express. And it wasn't enough. It would never be enough ever again.

But it had to be enough.

And in a way it was.


End file.
